Nothing That a Little Maalox Can't Fix
by penguino3782
Summary: Ian doesn't exactly live a stress free life. He has to help look after his younger siblings. He's busting his butt at school to find a way to get out of the neighborhood. Oh, and he's in a relationship with the neighborhood closeted thug.The stress was bound to catch up with him. He just thought that a little Maalox would get rid of the stomach ache. He has never been more wrong.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Shameless.**

**A/N1: I really don't know what I'm thinking starting another story since I'm not done with Self Preservation yet. But, I got this idea and I can't get it out of my head. I have to act when my muse is at work. I hope you guys like it.**

**A/N2: I'm rating this at M, because of language.**

**Nothing That a Little Maalox Can't Fix-Chapter 1  
**

"Ian, are you done yet?!" Debs yells from the other side of the door.

Ian cautiously raises his head from the toilet, wiping his arm across his mouth. Hopefully he's done. He's been in here for fifteen minutes after he was rudely awakened with a relentless bout of nausea. He's actually pretty shocked that no one has knocked on the door, demanding him to hurry up until now. Then again it is Saturday. No one is in a real rush to do anything. The redhead tentatively stands up and goes to the sink to rinse out his mouth. Because of the frequent vomiting, his head is killing him. The redhead opens the medicine cabinet and takes out the bottle of Advil. He shakes out two and changes his mind. Two is not gonna cut it. He shakes out two more and dry swallows them.

"I need to shower, Ian! I have to get to the Ryan's by ten." Debs yells loudly.

"Fi! Ian's not getting-"

Her complaining comes to a quick end when Ian opens the door to leave the bathroom.

"Finally!" Debs exclaims as she rushes past him into the bathroom.

"Whatever," Ian says with a wave of his hand as he goes back into this bedroom to get dressed. He sees that Liam is still asleep. Why couldn't he sleep during the night? Before Lip moved into Frank's empty room, and Liam moved in with him and Carl, Ian never realized how much his baby brother woke up in the middle of the night. Probably because he, Lip, and Fiona took turns getting him back to sleep. But, now since he's sharing a room with Liam, it's kind of expected that he'd be on Liam duty.

Ian rubs the bridge of his nose. He's definitely going to need a cup of coffee to get through today. He got little to no sleep last night. He didn't get in until after midnight after meeting up with Mickey. He got pretty high and was hopeful that he would just pass out. The never ending nausea that has been plaguing him over the last couple of days makes itself particularly known at night. The pot seemed to do the trick and he thought a good night's sleep was imminent. Within minutes of getting into bed, he was out. That is until Liam woke up at one, three, and then again at four.

When Liam finally fell asleep for good, the pot wore off and the nausea came back with a vengeance. He then spent the rest of the night making frequent trips to the bathroom, Sometimes he puked, other times he just stood over the toilet dry heaving.

Ian grabs the bottle of Maalox that he finally brought into his room after the third trip to the bathroom, and takes a large swig of the crap. He then moves to his dresser and quickly gets dressed. He has fifteen minutes to get to work, and he needs to grab some coffee or he's going to end up falling asleep at the register. As he tightens his belt he notices that the hole he usually uses makes his pants too big. What the fuck. He must be losing weight. He shakes his head and heads down the stairs.

"Morning, Ian." Fiona greets from the counter. She turns to him with a look of concern. "You feel okay?"

"I'm fine," Ian answers as he pours himself a cup of coffee.

"Really? Because Carl told me that you kept getting up to go to the bathroom half the night." Fiona explains.

Ian gives his younger brother a death stare over his coffee mug. "If Carl was up then maybe he could have gotten Liam back to sleep."

Fiona gives him a sympathetic look, "That bad, huh?" She goes to put her hand on her brother's forehead, but Ian quickly moves away from her hand. "You don't look too good, E. Why don't you stay home for the day?"

Ian shakes his head. "I can't, Fi. It's the summer. We all have to work to add to the squirrel fund."

Fiona nods her head in understanding. She's been busy working at the club all summer, and almost never sees Ian because she works at night while he works during the day. Lip told her yesterday that their brother hasn't been looking good, but this is the first time that she has seen her brother in person since Lip told her that he's been looking like crap. She doesn't like what she sees.

"I'm working tonight. Why don't you sleep in my room? I'll tell Lip that he's going to be on Liam duty tonight to give you a break. Sounds good?" Fiona asks.

Ian nods his head as Lip walks into the kitchen. "Man, you look like shit!'

"Fuck you," Ian responds as he finishes his cup of coffee. "I better get going or I'm gonna be late for work."

As he goes to leave, Fiona calls. "Ian, you gonna eat anything?"

Ian can feel the bile rising to the back of his throat. "No time."

"Take a pop tart with you." Fiona says.

Ian swallows quickly, "I'm okay. I'm not hungry. If I get hungry, I'll grab something at the store. Bye, guys." A chorus of good byes follows as Ian leaves the house.

"He didn't eat dinner last night either," Lip says.

"Or breakfast yesterday morning," Debbie adds as she comes into the kitchen with a now awake Liam.

Fiona looks at the door that Ian just walked out of in alarm. She turns to Lip. "Lip, you're on Liam duty tonight. Let Ian sleep. Steve's picking me up from work tonight. He's gonna make breakfast tomorrow. You know how Ian can't say no to French toast. Just watch him. I don't like the way he's looking or acting."

As Lip brings a spoonful of cereal to his lips, he nods his head. "I will."

"I'll keep an eye on him on him too," Debs adds as she places Liam in his high chair.

"Thanks, Debs." Fiona says with a small smile.

**XXXXX**

"You look like crap, Ian." Linda says to him as he walks in hunched over into the Kash and Grab.

"Thanks, Linda."

She scowls at him, "Seriously. Are you okay?"

Ian takes the seat behind the register, "I'm fine."

"Sure you are. That's why you walked in here like a ninety-year old man."

"It's just a stomach ache."

"You better not be contagious."

Ian rolls his eyes, "Aren't you supposed to be taking the boys to see their grandmother?"

"Well, I can leave now that you're here. Make sure Mickey doesn't take anything. I'll be watching the tapes when I get back."

A day without Linda, he's pretty sure that taking shit is the last thing that's gonna be on Mickey's mind. The ex-con's gonna see it as a free pass to fuck all day. Normally, Ian would jump at such a chance. But, not today. Not when his main goal of the day is to keep his stomach lining where it belongs.

"Here, take a couple of these. It usually does the trick for me," Linda says as she slams down a bottle of Tums on the counter.

"I actually prefer Maalox," Ian quips.

"Here, then." Linda says as she changes the bottle of Tums with a bottle of Maalox. "I better get going, Boys, let's go!"

One of the kids swallows a handful of candy before Linda can yell at him. Just the sight causes Ian to open the bottle and take a large gulp of the antacid.

"No more candy, let's go!" Linda calls again.

As they exit the store, Mickey walks in.

"Mickey, try to keep your hands to yourself."

It's comments like that makes Ian think that she knows about him and Mickey. Granted she has never said anything outright to them, but then again she probably knows better to keep her mouth shut about the matter.

"I'll try to control myself," Mickey replies with a smirk.

"Just make sure that he doesn't contaminate anything." Linda says as she leaves.

"Contaminate?" Mickey asks Ian with a raised eyebrow. When he takes a good look at Ian he knows exactly what she's talking about. "Jesus, firecrotch. You look like shit. You're not gonna spew chunks everywhere, are you? Cuz' I don't deal with puke."

"Fuck you, Mick." Ian says as he wipes the Maalox mustache off his face. "It's just a bug. I'll be fine."

"Good." Mickey replies as he takes a donut out of the pastry case and takes a huge bite. Without a mouth full of donut, Mickey says "because with Linda gone all day, I plan on taking full advantage."

Ian swallows quickly to keep the bile down his throat. He succeeds in keeping it down until Mickey decides that a redbull would be the perfect complement to the donut. After he takes a sip he puts it on the counter. "Hey, my sister isn't gonna be around tonight. Wanna come over -"

The nauseating smell of redbull is too much, and Ian springs off his chair and runs to the bathroom.

"What the fuck?!" Mickey yells towards the bathroom. "Shit." Mickey says as he grabs a bottle of Gatorade out of the cooler and makes his way towards the bathroom. "This is gonna be a fucking wonderful day."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own Shameless.**

**A/N: Thank you to those who have reviewed, alerted, and favorited this story. You guys rock!**

**Nothing That a Little Maalox Can't Fix-Chapter 2**

Ian leans back against the wall of the small bathroom, catching his breath after throwing up the coffee that he drank earlier. He closes his eyes and rubs his hand across his stomach, hoping to alleviate some of the fiery pain that has taken residence there.

"Gallagher, you okay in there?" Mickey calls through the door.

"I'm okay," Ian calls back.

"Is it safe for me to come in? I don't want to see any puking."

"I'm done puking," Ian replies. At least for the time being, he thinks to himself.

The ex-con opens the door and stands in the doorway. "Jesus, Gallagher. You look like shit."

"Fuck you, Mick. You said that to me already," Ian replies with a grumble.

"I would say let's go, if I wasn't afraid that you were gonna puke all over my back," Mickey says with a smirk as he hands the bottle of Gatorade to the redhead.

Ian takes the bottle of Gatorade and takes a sip.

"Seriously, are you okay? I don't want to have to clean up after you."

Ian stops drinking the sports drink. The pain has subsided for the moment. "I think I'm good."

He stands up, and the two of them make their way out of the back of the store. Mickey raises his eyebrows when he sees Gallagher grab a box of crackers off the shelf.

"Do you think that's a good idea?" Mickey asks as Ian walks back to the counter and takes a seat. "The sight of me eating a donut just sent you running to the bathroom to puke your guts."

Ian rolls his eyes as he cautiously bites a cracker, waiting to see if it's going to stay down. Eating is the last thing he wants to do but not eating hasn't done the trick either. Over the last two days his diet has mostly consisted of coffee, Advil, and a steady supply of antacids. "I didn't puke when you ate the donut. It was the smell of the redbull that sent me over the edge."

Eager not to have a repeat performance, the ex-con removes the energy drink off the counter and takes a sip. "Yeah, cuz' that's normal."

Satisfied that the cracker he ate is going to actually stay in his stomach, he eats another. "I must be a little hungover, that's all."

Mickey snickers as he grabs a magazine off the shelf, "Bullshit. You weren't even drunk last night. You were high as shit, but definitely not drunk."

"Fuck off," Ian replies.

"We went through this already, firecrotch. We ain't fucking again until I'm sure you're done puking.'

All the bantering is too much for Ian to deal with. He's too fucking tired, and his stomach is still bothering him. Granted it's not like the sharp pain he had earlier, now it's just a dull ache. He remains quiet, reserving his energy for later extracurricular activities, and settles for giving Mickey the finger.

The ex-con just smirks. He's fine with the silence. In fact most of the times he prefers it because firecrotch talks enough for the both of them. He knows that he's not going to be getting any since he believes that corpses have more color than firecrotch does at the moment. So, he settles with looking through the magazine that's in front of him and looking at Gallagher out of the corner of his eye, trying to ignore the pit in his stomach that something's not right. Maybe, firecrotch really is contagious and he's getting whatever bug he has.

**XXXXX**

"Hey, Mickey." Lip says as he walks into the Kash and Grab. He looks around and doesn't see his brother. "Where's Ian?"

Mickey looks up from a magazine and points towards the back of the store.

"Bathroom?" Lip asks.

The ex-con nods his head. "What do you need?"

"I'm here to full up the truck. Kev and I are going to the park for the day. He's pulling it up around back."

"What do you guys need?" Mickey asks.

Lip grabs a couple of boxes of popsicles and walks them to the back of the store. "Grab eight cases of beer." Lip looks to the bathroom door. "I'll grab the soda."

As Mickey heads back to the beer, Lip stops him. "How's he doing?"Lip asks as he points with his thumb to the bathroom.

"He looks like shit. Been in the bathroom all morning. Is it some kind of bug?"

Lip shakes his head, "Nah, I don't think so. I think it's stress, everything hitting him at once."

"You think stress is doing this?" Mickey asks as he grabs a couple of cases of beer. "In this neighborhood everything is stressful. Hell, we have to sneak out late at night so no one fucking sees us." Mickey hisses.

It sounds strange talking to Ian's brother about him being with his brother, that he's gay. He has never told anyone that, but Lip knows because Ian has a hell of a better relationship with his older brother than he does with his.

At first, Mickey was pissed when Ian told him that Lip knew about them. When Mickey got out of juvie the second time and wanted to start things up again with Ian, the redhead had certain conditions. He knew he kind of owed it to him since he did tell him that he was nothing but a warm mouth and was going to kill his father. So, he gave in. Mickey may not have graduated high school, but he's not a complete dumbass, He knows better than to give up the best sex he ever had. So, he gave in to firecrotch's fucking condiitons.

The two of them talked. Well, Ian mostly talked, and Mickey listened. He didn't interrupt him and waited until he was done talking before he made any comments. Ian told him that Lip knew about him and Mickey, but that he knew for awhile and won't say anything. Even if he is fucking Mandy. Ian told him that he slept with Lloyd when Mickey was away, but that it was only a couple of times. And that when he found out who he really was he ended it.

Mickey was initially pissed that Ian slept with someone else. Someone who was so much older than him. Damn! He thought that he had daddy issues. His are nothing compared to Ian's. He told himself that after what he said to Ian, it was only fair and he couldn't expect him to wait around for him to get out. But, what really got him over the fact that Ian was with someone else, someone other than him, was the marathon sex he and Ian had that night. The teeth marks on Ian's collarbone made it clear that he's Mickey's again.

"That and all the other shit," Lip says as he brings Mickey back to the present. "I think it's school and the shit with Lloyd."

Mickey scowls, "Did something else happen?"

Lip instantly shakes his head no, "He hasn't seen him. But, I think always seeing Jimmy around the house is probably fucking with his head. It must be a bitch knowing that you fucked your sister's boyfriend's closeted gay father. He hasn't said anything to Fiona or Jimmy. Doesn't want to fuck up Jimmy's life."

"Yeah, well I think that he needs to take care of himself right now." Mickey retorts as he places the beer by the backdoor.

"Yeah, I know. Do me a favor. Just keep an eye on him. Stress can really fuck up the body. He has a habit of not saying how sick he is until things spin way out of control."

"Will do."

"Will do what?" Ian asks as he walks out of the bathroom.

"Help me with the stuff," Lip answers as Mickey opens the back door and the three of them start to load the ice-cream truck. Lip throws Mickey a concerned glance when Ian begins to walk hunched over, subconsciously holding his stomach with one arm. The ex-con nods his head and an unspoken understanding forms between the two of them.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Shameless. If I did, we wouldn't have to wait so long for season three. **

**Nothing That a Little Maalox Can't Fix-Chapter 3**

"Ian! Breakfast's ready. Come on!" Fiona bellows up the stairs.

Ian doesn't yell back, and Fiona doesn't hear him moving around upstairs.

She carries over a heaping plate of bacon to the table and asks Lip, "What time did he get in last night?"

Lip stuffs his face with a piece of French toast, "I don't know. Not too late. He was already in bed when I got home from the movies with Mandy and that was around midnight."

"And he was in bed when I put Liam down at ten," Debbie adds as she takes a couple pieces of bacon.

Fiona frowns when she hears this. That means her brother has been in bed for nearly eight hours. That is not like Ian.

Fiona turns towards the stairs again and screams, "Come on, E! Get it while it's on hot!" She waits for a response, but once again hears nothing.

Jimmy sees her frown and pulls her in close, "Let him sleep for the day. He's been working a lot. Give it a day. If he's still like this tomorrow, then I'll personally drag him to the clinic."

Fiona doesn't look convinced.

"Come on, you even said it yourself that he hasn't been sleeping for shit since Liam moved in with him and Carl. I say you, me, Carl, Debs, and Liam get out of here for a bit. He'll be fine after getting some half way decent sleep," Jimmy says as he leans in for a kiss.

Fiona breaks away from the kiss, "Fine. We'll go if I can get him to eat something."

"If Ian doesn't want any, that's more for us!" Carl says as he goes to add more bacon and French toast to his plate. His hand is quickly smacked away by Debs.

"Don't eat everything, I'm gonna make Ian a plate for later." Debbie says.

Ian burrows himself deeper in his blankets after he hears Fiona yelling at him for the second time that breakfast's ready. He didn't make any kind of movement that his siblings could hear. He hopes that they would take the hint and leave him in peace. After sleeping for almost six hours, he knows that he should be feeling better and be ready to get up. But, he doesn't.

After he and Mickey got off from work they went back to the ex-con's place since Mandy was with Lip at the movies, Mickey's father was in jail along with one of his brothers, and his other brothers have been MIA for a couple of weeks. Ian stayed away from the booze because although he didn't puke since that one time at the store, he didn't want to press his luck. He got high as shit though. The weed was able to keep the fiery pain in his gut at bay enough so he was able to actually eat something other than fucking crackers. And the nausea tapered off enough so that he felt comfortable enough that he wasn't gonna hurl chunks everywhere. So, he and Mickey fucked a couple of times. Between the exhaustion after a couple of good fucks and the shitload of weed he smoked, Ian was finally able to get some half way decent sleep. He literally collapsed into Lip's bed, taking full of advantage of not being on Liam duty for the night.

Ian slept for a good, solid six hours. But, then the fiery pain in his gut returned. He only got up once to go to the bathroom, and that was when the pizza rolls he ate over at Mickey's made a second appearance that night. He didn't want everyone in the house to hear him making any more trips to the bathroom, so he settled with grabbing a bucket from the kitchen.

He moans softly and wraps his arm around his gut as a particularly sharp pain rips through his stomach. "Fuck!" He groans. Luckily, the exhaustion that's associated with puking and dry heaving for a long period of time make itself known and Ian falls into a restless doze.

Next thing he knows, someone's shaking his shoulder. "Hey, Ian." Debbie calls softly.

Ian opens one eye, "Mornin', Debs."

"Since you didn't come down, I brought you up a plate. Bacon and French toast, your favorite!" Debs says with a smile as she holds the place closer to his face.

Between her mentioning food and the smell of greasy bacon, Ian grimaces as he tries to sit up. He pushes the plate back towards his sister. "Not hungry."

"Not hungry? You haven't eaten in three days, and Jimmy got real maple syrup. I know you want some!" Debs says with a smile.

Now that she mentioned maple syrup, Ian can't help but gag at the super sweet smell. And just like when he smelled Mickey's redbull yesterday at the store, he can feel the rise of vomit rushing into the back of his throat.

He has never been more grateful than now that he had the foresight to grab that puke bucket the night before. He quickly leans over his bed and for the umpteenth time over the last couple of days, Ian heaves his guts out. Over the sounds of his harsh puking he can hear his sister yelling. "FIONA!"

**XXXXX**

Mickey opens the door to his door and walks into the living room. He sees Lip sitting on his couch. Gauging by the fact that Lip is only in his boxers he has a feeling that if he walked out here ten minutes earlier he would have caught his sister and Lip fucking. Thank god he was in the throes of sleep that only comes with a couple rounds of good sex and smoking a shitload of weed.

"Don't count on having a rendezvous with my brother today," Lip smirks as he lights up a joint.

The ex-con gives him a death glare as he looks around to see where his sister is.

Lip laughs, "Don't worry, Mandy ran out to get some pizza bagels and hot pockets."

Mickey accepts the offered joint and sits down on the couch. "Is he still puking? I thought he was over that. He didn't puke since yesterday morning."

Lip takes the joint back and takes a long drag. "Yeah, well that changed when Deb brought him up a plate after breakfast. Puke everywhere."

Mickey gives him a look of disgust. "Fuck! I really didn't need to know that, Gallagher"

Lip laughs again. "On the brighter side he hasn't puked since breakfast. Jimmy convinced my sister that he'll be fine in 24 hours. And that all he needs is some peace and quiet."

"Your point?" Mickey asks.

"Jimmy convinced my sister that Ian needs to get some sleep. So, he's taking Fiona, Debs, Carl, and Liam to the Aquatic Center in Forest Park." Lip says with a smirk. "You guys can have the place to yourselves. Not that would do you any good since the last time I checked on him he was a miserable mess laying in the fetal position."

Mickey looks down at the floor. He doesn't deal with sick people.

Lip takes another drag."Go check on him, He might be more honest with you. When we ask him what's wrong, he insists that it's just a stomach bug that he can't shake. Find out what the hell is going on with him" Lip then hands over the joint to Mickey.

Mickey is saved from answering Lip when the front door slams and Mandy walks in, "I got pizza bagels! Who's ready to eat?"

**XXXXX**

Mickey continues to smoke his joint as he opens the door with the key that Lip gave to him. Even though he knows that all the Gallagher's minus Lip and Ian are out of town for the day he can't help but look around to make sure that he's alone. Satisfied that he is, he precedes to walk upstairs. He walks into Ian's room and looks around in confusion when he sees no one's there. But, then he remembers Lip saying that Ian's been camped out in his room so he can get a little more sleep.

The ex-con makes his way down the hallway and stops at the closed door. He takes a deep breath. He can do this. He cautiously opens the door.

Firecrotch is in bed, burrowed in blankets. Mickey takes a tentative step into the room. "You alive?" Mickey asks as he drops the backpack he brought onto the floor.

Ian moves, but keeps his arm across his stomach, "I think so,' he croaks

"You sound like fucking shit."

"Well, I feel like it too. It's only fitting." Ian quips.

"Move over," Mickey demands. Ian scoots over, and Mickey takes a seat. "You still feel like you're gonna puke?"

Ian doesn't answer, and Mickey sees that as a clear answer. "I brought a little something to help that."

"A gun to shoot me?" Ian asks. His voice muffled because his face is still buried in a pillow.

Mickey rolls his eyes as he holds up a joint. "I got something better."

Ian laughs but then stops as a sharp pain pulls at his gut. 'Give it to me." Ian gently sits up with his back against the wall.

Mickey lights the joint and takes a long drag. He knows what he's about to say is wrong, but he can't help it. He never used kid gloves when he dealt with firecrotch, and he's not going to treat him like he's fragile now. Even if he is battling some kind of mutant bug. "You only get some, if I get a little something."

Ian leans in for a kiss, but the ex-con stops him. "I'm not talking about that shit. I don't need you kissing me after you puked."He meant it to be funny. To keep up the banter that he and Ian always engage in. But, the sad look on Gallagher's face tells him that he missed the mark.

But as quick as the sad look came across Ian's face, it's gone. Ian places his hand over Mickey's crotch and rubs. He gives the ex-con a seductive smirk, "give it to me."

Mickey almost moans out loud because it's been almost twenty-four hours since he got some. But, he's able to reign himself in. "You're gonna have to better than that."

Ian puts his hand down Mickey's pants and starts stroking, "Is this better?" His voice all husky.

The ex-con lets out a moan. "Yeah, that's better."

Next thing he knows, Ian with one hand still down his pants, is straddling his legs. He can feel Ian's arousal rubbing against his. Mickey places his hands under Ian's thin tee-shirt and digs his fingers into the pale skin near the redhead's hipbones. Ian leans towards Mickey's neck. He can feel the redhead's breath on his collar bone, and knows that soon he will feel the familiar feeling of Ian biting down on the spot that drives him nuts.

Mickey closes his eyes because he loves this part. This is when Ian tells him how important he is, and how much he cares about him. But, he doesn't hear that. Instead he hears the distinct noise of gagging.

"What the fuck, Gallagher!"

As Mickey's eyes pop open, Ian scrambles off his lap and dives to the side of the bed.

He watches as Ian's back quivers with the strain of puking. He knows he should rub his back, say some encouraging words or some shit. But, he doesn't. That's too touchy feely for him. He frowns as he stands up and gets a glass of water from the bathroom. When he returns, Ian is no longer puking. But, he's still sitting on the side of the bed, clutching the bucket in a death grip. The ex-con takes a seat next to his lover.

"You done?"

The redhead warily nods his head. "I think so," his voice breaking.

Mickey hands Ian the glass of water. "Here, rinse your mouth out. I can't stand puke breath."

Ian gives him a small smile, and rinses his mouth out. He relinquishes his hold on the bucket and places the bucket back on the floor. "Thanks."

Mickey runs his hair through his hair, "Your brother said that you didn't puke since this morning."

"I didn't. I even kept down the toast and eggs that Fiona made me eat before they left." Ian says as he closes his eyes, and lies back down in bed. "Until now."

"Then what the hell brought that on just now?"

"You smell like pepperoni and sauce." Ian whispers.

"So? I've smelt a hell of a lot worse than that and we still fucked." Mickey says.

Ian folds himself into the now common fetal position. "Yeah, but the other times I wasn't nauseas at shit to begin with."

Mickey looks down at Ian, and then sees the hot pocket stain on his tank top. Close to where his collar bone meets his neck. The same spot where Ian loves to mark him. That would explain it. Mickey stands up and goes to the door.

"Don't leave," Ian says in a broken voice.

"Relax. I'll be back. You left me with a hard on and I have to take care of it."

"You can do that here." Ian suggests.

Mickey shakes his head, "Nah. I can't do that it in room where you puked not even five minutes ago. And if you puked because of the smell of a hot pocket then I don't want to know what the smell of cum will do to you."

Ian lets out a small laugh. But, Mickey can't help but frown when it's quickly followed by a moan. "Don't be long."

With Mickey gone, Ian tries to find a comfortable position that would alleviate some of the pain in his gut. Giving up for the time being, he leans over to the bedside table and grabs the bottle of antacid, taking a large gulp. He lies back down, and within a couple of minutes later Mickey walks in.

"All good?" Ian asks.

Mickey takes off his stained shirt because he really doesn't want to see a repeat performance of Ian puking. Before he gets back into the bed, he bends down to the backpack he brought and takes out a beer. "It was okay. Haven't had to use my right hand in awhile though. Not since I was in juvie." He didn't tell Ian that he laid in his bed to get off. That it was the smell of Ian's shampoo, soap, cheap laundry detergent, and the distinct smell of Ian that got him to finish that fast. It was an acceptable replacement to the real thing.

Nor did he tell Ian to get off of him when Ian moved his body towards the ex-con, his head resting on Mickey's thigh and his fingers kneading into Mickey's jean glad leg.

"I'm sorry." Ian mumbles into Mickey's leg.

Mickey leans back against the wall, his fingers gently running through Ian's short hair. "Yeah, well you better get better fast. Because I don't plan on making a fucking habit out of it."

Ian lets out a small smile, "I'll get better soon. I promise."

"Good." Mickey looks down at Ian, half draped on him. "Do you think that I can drink a beer, or are you gonna puke again?"

Ian glances up from his spot on Mickey's thigh. "I think I'll be okay."

"Good, because I can't do this snuggling shit completely sober." He removes his hand from Ian's hair to open a beer. He tries to ignore Ian's moan of protest.

"Take a fucking easy." Mickey says as he takes a sip of beer. He resumes gently running his fingers through Ian's hair with his left band, and holds the beer with his right. "Better?"

Ian nods his head against Mickey's leg, "Much."

"You fucking pussy." Mickey shakes his head as he takes another sip of beer, and lets out a loud belch. But, he doesn't stop running his fingers through Ian's hair. He has nothing else to do. No work on Sundays. He knows that Lip and Mandy are no doubt fucking back at his place, and he doesn't need to be a witness to do that shit. So, he'll just sit here with Ian, drinking his beer and smoking his joint. He can think of worse ways to spend his Sunday.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Still don't own Shameless.**

**A/N: Now that I'm back at work and starting up school again, updates will not be as frequent. I'll try my best and write as much as I can during my free time. In the mean time, here's the next chapter.**

**Nothing That a Little Maalox Can't Fix-Chapter 4**

Mickey takes a sip of Redbull as he looks through a magazine at the counter of the Kash and Grab. He's all alone because Linda left to do whatever she does about an hour ago, and Ian still hasn't arrived. It's not like Ian to be this late, but he figures that the kid is taking his advice and is taking his time getting in. The ex-con told him before he left the Gallagher's last night to take his time getting into work, that he'll go in when Ian was scheduled to appease Linda. When Ian asked him why he was willing to go in two hours early, his reply was so that he could cash in on the favor at another time. No questions asked. What he didn't tell Ian was that he hoped that a few extra hours of sleep and rest will hopefully get rid of Gallagher's pasty complexion, and wipe out whatever bug that has taken residence over the last couple of days in his gut.

Now almost two hours later and after reassuring Linda that Ian will definitely be in, Gallagher's still not here. What the fuck? He's about to send out a nasty text when the door opens and Ian comes staggering in. If Mickey didn't know better he would have thought that the redhead had gotten completely wasted the night before. He knows that didn't happen for a fact. Mickey drank a shitload of beer. Not only did he finish off the six pack he brought, he also put a pretty good dent into the Gallagher's beer supply. But, Ian didn't have any. Not one fuckin sip.

Ian did smoke though. He smoked a lot. Mickey knows that Gallagher didn't do it to just have a good time. He knows that the redhead smoked to get rid of the ever present nausea that has consumed him over the last couple of days. It worked because he got his appetite back, and felt well enough to consume something other than crackers and a steady supply of antacid. He actually ventured out of bed and made some chicken nuggets. After he persuaded Mickey that his family will be gone for awhile, and it was safe the ex-con joined him in the living room.

The pot had its desired effect because Ian was definitely feeling better. Rambling on about stupid shit that Mickey doesn't really care about like his sister's upcoming sleepover and his government class at school. And when Mickey told him to shut the fuck up, he took the hint. And they quickly went at it….twice. Mickey was happy, and Ian was back to wanting to cuddle. Mickey told him to get the fuck off, but still kept his arm wrapped around Ian's waist because he just couldn't let go. And when Ian fell asleep, Mickey quickly made his exit, thinking that everything was back to normal.

However, that belief went out the window when he catches a glimpse of Gallagher walking into the Kash and Grab now. The redhead doesn't say a word as he walks over to the Maalox and opens the bottle, taking a huge sip.

"You okay there, firecrotch?" Mickey asks uncertainly.

The redhead doesn't say a word and just nods his head as he walks behind the counter and takes a seat.

Taking in Gallagher's pale complexion and the dark bruises under his eyes, Mickey wrinkles his nose. "Doesn't look like it."

Ian rolls his eyes and huffs, "I'm fine."

"Bullshit. You look like complete shit."

"I hate to tell you, but I've been looking like shit for the last week. It didn't stop us from fucking last night," Ian says as he takes another sip of Maalox. He holds up two fingers. "twice."

Mickey rubs his bottom lip with his thumb. "Yeah, but when we fucked last night you were….you. Rambling on about stupid shit and was all touchy feeling. You didn't look like that you do now."

Ian puts down the bottle of antacid, "how do I look now?"

Mickey puts the magazine he's been looking through back on the rack and grabs another one. "You look like you're about to lose the chicken nuggets you ate yesterday."

Mickey swears that Ian loses what little color Ian has in his face when he mentions chicken nuggets.

"Too late. I already." Ian admits.

The ex-con frowns. "Yeah, that sounds like you're fine."

Ian sighs in aggravation, "I told you before. I'm fine. I'm not a 100% now, but I will be. I think I just caught a stomach bug and can't shake it. I'll be okay in a couple of days."

Mickey shrugs his shoulders. "You better be. But, I'm not entirely convinced that you're not contagious. So, for the time being we're not gonna fuck until you're done upchucking."

"Ever the romantic, Mick." Ian mutters.

"Says the one who has spent more time puking than sleeping over the last week," Mickey says as he grabs a pack of yodels from the rack and bites into one. "I just don't want to get whatever mutant bug that you have." Mickey says with a mouthful of yodel.

"Fuck you. I'm f-." Ian starts, but what he's about to say is interrupted when he brings a hand to his mouth and he rushes towards the bathroom.

"You're fine my ass. Fuckin idiot, "Mickey says as he walks back towards the bathroom.

**XXXXX**

Mickey's anxiously pacing the store floor when he hears the bell over the door. He looks up to see Lip.

"Hey, Mickey." Gallagher says as he looks around the store. Mickey knows exactly what, or should he say who he's looking for.

The ex-con points towards the bathroom. "Your brother's a little busy at the moment."

The look on Lip's face tells the ex-con that he's not happy with the answer. "How long has he been in there?"

Mickey takes out a cigarette and lights it. "Too long. Listen Gallagher, you have to take him home. He's been in there off and on for the last two hours. He looks like complete shit. I didn't need to scare any shoplifters away today. They take one look at your brother, and they're running for the door. Probably thinks he has fucking Ebola or some shit."

Lip frowns as he looks toward the bathroom, "Did you check on him?"

Mickey takes a long drag and shakes his head. "Door's locked. Anyways, I can deal with blood, broken bones, and most bodily fluids. But, I draw the line with puke. I can't deal with that shit."

Lip lights his own cigarette. "I'll see what I can do."

"I thought your sister's boyfriend was supposed to drag his ass to the clinic if he wasn't better by today."

Lip takes a long drag. "Yeah, well Jimmy's been gone all day. He's doing some work shit. And my sister got called into work for a double. Ian snuck out before any of us got up."

Almost as if he can sense that he's the topic of conversation, Ian makes his way back to the front of the store. Once Lip sees his brother he knows exactly what Mickey is talking about. Ian looks like shit. Lip takes that back. He looks worse than shit. He's pale and is walking hunched over, with an arm wrapped around his stomach. He looks like the simple task of walking is draining the last of his energy reserves.

"I'm taking you home." Lip says without hesitation.

Ian shakes his head no. "Lip, I'm fine."

Lip clenches his fists. "Bullshit," he bites back. "I've seen you at your worst. Like when you came down with pneumonia when you were ten and ended up in ICU. Or when Kyle Peters broke your arm in two places. Or when you got that bout of food poisoning from eating that macaroni salad from that gas station. But, all those pale in comparison to how you look now."

Mickey doesn't say anything as he keeps his eyes down, looking though a magazine. He'll let Lip be the bad guy this once. Besides, like he's told Lip he doesn't deal with puke. He does have to hold back his look of shock when he realizes that not only is Ian not giving his brother the patented line of "I'm fine", but he also gives into his brother's pleas.

"Okay, I'll go home."

And that one small sentence tells Mickey all he needs to know. Gallagher is sick. Really sick. He puts his concern for Gallagher's well being aside for the moment. "Yeah, get outta here. I don't want your pukey body back here until you shake whatever you have."

Ian gives him a small smile, and Mickey feels like he's succeeded in making things sound normal. That is until he sees Ian grimace and grabs the bottle of Maalox. Lip pats his brother's shoulder. "Come on man, let's go. Debs and Liam are over Vee's. And Carl is wherever. You can be miserable in peace."

It sounds like Lip had things all planned out before hand.

Ian remains quiet as he walks besides his brother towards the door. The redhead turns around and gives Mickey a small smile, "See you later, Mick."

Mickey gives him the finger."Later, firecrotch."

Lip looks back at Mickey with a look of disgust on his face, "Please, don't refer to my brother as firecrotch ever again. Or I think I might puke."

"Fuck off, Gallagher." Mickey retorts.

Lip gives the ex-con a small smile as he mouths silently, _I'll call you later._

Mickey nods his head as he watches on as Lip gently assist his brother out of the store with a hand on his shoulder guiding him. Mickey can't help but watch the brothers make their way away from the store, trying to push down the sinking feeling deep in his gut that something's seriously wrong with Ian.

**I'm sorry that there wasn't a lot of action in this chapter. I view this chapter as a transition chapter for the next part of the story. Thanks for bearing with me. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I don't own Shameless.**

**A/N: I know it's been a while since I last updated. It's been a little crazy between two jobs and school. Thanks for sticking with me!**

**Nothing That a Little Maalox Can't Fix-Chapter 5**

"Ian," Lip says as he shakes his brother's shoulders. Ian ignores his calls so the older brother tries again, "Ian, man you have to wake up. You puked a shitload and I have to get some water in you or you're gonna dehydrate."

Their walk home from the Kash and Grab was excruciatingly slow, having to stop every few minutes when Ian doubled over, either in pain or when the nausea got to be too much. To his credit, Ian did not puke. Lip wished that was because his brother was getting better, but he is pretty damn sure that the only reason his brother stopped puking at the time was probably because there was nothing left to puke. He looked on as a helpless bystander as his brother fought an internal battle with his gut.

When they finally got home, Lip deposited his brother on the couch and called Vee over to check him over. After a quick exam, she basically told Lip what he already knew. It wasn't appendicitis because Ian got his appendix out when he was ten, and the main thing was to keep him hydrated. She advised him to get some bland foods and liquids into Ian before the kid dehydrates and then a trip to the hospital would be unavoidable.

After Vee successfully got Ian to eat a small amount of Ramen noodle broth and water she felt comfortable leaving the two Gallagher brothers alone to go to work. On her way to work she dropped of Liam at Sheila's house so she can watch him. That way Lip did not have to deal with a fidgety three year, and only had to deal with a puking, miserable brother and a mother hen of a sister.

But as luck would have it, Ian puked up all the broth and water that their neighbor spent nearly half an hour getting into him within minutes after she left their house. Hence why now Lip is trying to rouse his brother to get some water in him.

"Ian, come on." Lip pleas as he kneels down to Ian's position on the couch. But, once again his brother ignores his calls and just further burrows himself into the back of the couch, pulling the blanket that his sister draped over him up to his shoulders.

"Here, try this." Debbie says to Lip as she gives Lip a Hawaiian Punch juice box. "He might be more open to something sweet and not plain water."

The older Gallagher takes the offered juice box. "Here, Ian. Drink this. It's not water." Once again Ian ignores his sibling's urging and shivers into the blanket. What the hell. It's August. Granted the city is in a bit of a cooling spell, especially for the summer, but it's definitely not cold enough to warrant a freaking blanket.

"Please, Ian." Debs begs her brother.

Lip gives his sister a reassuring look because he can see that his sister is physically upset, but he is also relived. For Ian turns his head towards the two of them and reaches for the juice box.

"Give it to me," He says in a cracking voice.

Lip gives him the juice box and Ian sips cautiously. Debbie smiles, and it seems like things are normal. Well, as normal as things are for their family. After Ian finishes the juice, Ian looks at his siblings, "I'm a little hungry. Do you guys think you can get me something to eat?"

Debs' smile gets even bigger. "Sure! We have the noodles left over from the Ramen that Vee made you earlier. I'll go heat them up," Debbie says excitedly as she runs into the kitchen leaving her two brothers behind.

A little while later Debbie and Lip are watching an episode of Myth Busters. Ian is dozing on the couch after keeping both the noodles and juice down. The house is still relatively quiet since Liam is still over at Sheila's and Carl is at some pre-season football thing with Jimmy out of town. The quietness is shattered when the sound of gagging brings their attention to a previously dozing Ian. Lip quickly jumps into action and places a bowl under his brother's mouth.

"It's okay," Lip says as he watches his brother vomit pieces of noodles and pink liquid into the family's 'puke bowl.'

As Ian is moaning in pain, Debbie tries to be helpful by rubbing her brother's trembling back. "Shhh, Ian. You're okay."

In what feels like forever, Ian leans back into the couch and pushes the bowl of puke away. "I think I'm done." He then rubs his stomach, trying to ease the fiery pain that's engulfing it. "For now."

Debbie frowns. "I'll get you some water. You probably want to rinse your mouth out." she says as she leaves the room before Ian can tell her otherwise.

Lip knows that his sister hates feeling helpless. He's feeling the exact same way right now. No matter what he does, Ian keeps getting sick. He gives his younger brother a good, hard look. His eyes are closed, his face is ashen to the point where his freckles are standing out more than ever. To put it mildly, he looks like complete shit. "You okay, bro?"

Ian remains silent and just nods his head. He does take a sip of water from the glass that his sister hands him, and spits pink liquid into the puke bucket.

"Okay, well I'm gonna hop in the shower before The Deadliest Catch starts. I'm beginning to stink."

Debs wrinkles her nose, "Yeah you are. But, who are you fooling. You're meeting up with Mandy later. That's the real reason why you want to shower."

His younger sister is far too damn smart for her age. "Mandy is coming by later, but that's besides the point."

"Whatever," Deb retorts.

As Lip makes his way up the stairs he motions to their silent brother on the couch, "Keep an eye on him, I'll be down in a bit." Debbie nods her head in agreement as Lip continues his way up the stairs.

He's only been upstairs for ten minutes at most when the shit truly hits the fan. Lip's in the middle of rinsing his hair when he hears a screech. At first he thinks that Carl and Jimmy are home and that Carl scared his sister. He shakes his head and lets the water hit the tense muscles in his back. Then he hears it again. What the hell is going on? Did someone come to the house looking for Frank? He opens up the shower curtain and yells, "Debs?! You okay?!"

No answer. But, that's probably because the bathroom door is shut. Lip turns the shower off, and quickly wraps a towel around his waist. He opens the door and moves to the top of the stairs, "Debs? Everything okay down there?"

This time he doesn't hear silence or the screech he heard earlier in the shower. He hears a panicked, "Lip! You need to get down now!"

Faster that he thought was possible, Lip runs down the stairs with one hand securing the towel around his waist. He skids into the living room to see a frantic Debbie standing next to the couch. "What the hell is going on?"

Debbie doesn't say anything right away, and the only sound Lip can hear is the pounding of his own heart and Ian moaning.

Lip moves closer to the couch and asks his sister again, "What's wrong, Debs?"

As he rounds the couch he sees instantly what has his sister so upset. Ian is half sitting, half lying down on the couch. That's nothing scary. No, it's the red stream that is running from Ian's mouth down his chin. It's the stain of a dark, red substance on the blanket that has Lip scared shitless. This is not Hawaiian Punch red. "FUCK!"

Lip stands there in a daze for a minute after his initial outburst, for once not knowing what to do. Ian's puking blood. BLOOD. This is so much worse than any stomach bug. And he has no way of getting him to the hospital. They don't have a car. Jimmy's out of town for Carl's football thing. Kev is working. And they so cannot afford calling an ambulance. That would take months to pay off.

His sister brings him out of his daze. "What do we do?" Debbie asks her brother with tears running down her cheeks. Before he can say anything, Ian starts to gag. Both siblings look on helplessly as a fountain of red comes spewing out of Ian's mouth. He doesn't have the strength to puke in the bowl that's on his lap, so his shirt takes the hit. He looks at his siblings for help. It's the glazed look in his yes, his pain filled moans, and the blossoming amount of blood that is coming out of his brother that pushes Lip's ass into gear.

"You stay here." He says to Debs. "I'm gonna put some clothes on and go down to the Alibi to get Kev's truck."

Ian lets out another pain filled moan. Lip doesn't know if it's purely from pain or from hearing Lip's plan. "Hey, I'll be fast. I promise." As to accentuate his point, Lip sprints up the stairs, gets dressed, grabs Ian a clean shirt and blanket, and is back down in less than a minute.

Debs is scared. Lip can see that. He hates leaving his sister alone with Ian when he's like this, but Lip really doesn't have a choice. They need a car, and his sister can't drive. He hands her his phone, "Call 911 if he loses consciousness." Debs' eyes get owlishly huge. "I'm sure that won't happen, just in case. Just jeep him calm until I get back. Grab a glass of water and a wet cloth. "

After Debbie goes into the kitchen he turns to his ill brother. "Lift your arms up. I got you a clean shirt," he instructs. His brother complies and with lifts his trembling arms. Lip removes the soiled shirt and replaces it with a clean one. Once his arms are down, Ian wraps one around his gut.

"Your stomach is really killing you, huh?"

Ian nods his head as he moans in pain. And at that point everything clicks in Lip's head. The sleepless nights. Maalox becoming Ian's new accessory as of late. The weight loss that everyone accredited to his most recent growth spurt. The constant stomach pain. It's never been a stomach bug. It's fucking ulcer. And now with Ian's losing blood at an alarming weight, it looks like that ulcer grew into something much worse.

"Here, I'm gonna try and make you comfortable."

His brother gives him a wistful look.

"I know you feel like shit now. I know your stomach is killing you, let's try and relieve some of the pressure in your gut." Lip says as he takes off the blood soaked blanket. Ian shivers. "Give me a second, and I'll put it back on you. Take off your pants."

Ian stares at him confused.

"The pressure of the jeans is not helping you."

His brother seems to comprehend what he just said and with shaky hands he attempts to unbutton his pants. But, the trembling makes it impossible. He sighs in frustration.

"Here, I'll help you." Lip says as he moves his hand towards his brother's fly.

Ian's face gets a little red. Lip can tell his brother is embarrassed that he needs help with something that is so personal. But, in a sad way Lip is glad to see the light blush to his brother's face. It's not much color, but at least it's better than the pastiness that's been there for the last couple of days.

"Don't worry, I won't mention this to anyone." Lip says reassuringly as he moves in to remove his brother's pants.

Ian is a little bit more comfortable with a clean shirt and blanket when Debbie comes back into the living room. She immediately gets to work, cleaning the blood off of Ian's face. Lip knows how miserable his brother is feeling since he's not even fussing at Debs' actions.

"Okay, I'm gonna get going. I'll back soon," He says as he walks towards the door.

"Hurry back," Debbie says as Lip reaches the door.

Lip nods his head on his way out. As he steps outside, he takes a deep breath. Ian needs to be okay. Before he starts his trek to the Alibi, he sends a certain ex-con a quick text.

_**Ian's puking blood. Going to the hospital.**_

He feels a little strange doing it, because Mickey still freaks him the hell out and he still doesn't really understand what's going on with the ex-con and his brother. But he knows that Mickey has the right to know. And he also knows that Ian would want Mickey to know. And for Lip that's the only reason he needs.

**I know no Mickey in this chapter, but don't worry. He's going to be in the next one.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I don't own Shameless.**

**A/N: Thanks again to all those who are following this story. You guys rock! Words in italics take place in a phone conversation. The bolded ones is Mickey speaking. The unbolded words are Lip's part of the conversation.**

**A/N2: There's some medical stuff in this chapter. I'm no medical expert, but I tried my best.**

**Nothing That a Little Maalox Can't Fix-Chapter 6**

Mickey's drawing stupid cartoons in a notebook to pass the time. He's already looked through every magazine in the store, and helped himself to a hefty supply of donuts, Pringles, and Coke. Mickey's not used to being at the store by himself, without Ian. Without Ian yapping about stupid shit, it just doesn't feel right.

The ex-con looks at his watch to see what time it is. Linda's supposed to be back by six. That's a little bit more than an hour from now. Then Mickey can go home and get drunk. If firecrotch is feeling up for it, maybe they can head down to the baseball field for a bit. He's steps out the front door for a minute to have a quick cigarette. As he takes a much needed drag, his phone beats signaling him that he has a text message. When he looks at it, he sees it's from Ian. Probably telling him he'll meet up with him later because he's no longer feeling the need to puke every five minutes.

Mickey couldn't have been more wrong. His cigarette nearly falls out of his slack mouth when he reads the text.

_**Ian's puking blood. Going to the hospital**_

What the fuck! Puking is one thing, but puking blood is another fucking story. Even Mickey knows this. In all the fights and altercations he has gotten himself into over the years, Mickey knows that there are certain things that you don't mess with, that warrants a trip to the hospital. And puking blood is one of them.

Without hesitation Mickey calls Ian's phone to see what the fuck is going on. The phone rings about six times before Lip finally picks up.

"_Hello? That you, Mickey?"_

Mickey rolls his eyes at Lip's stupid question. Of course it's him. He's calling back the number that texted him in the first place.

"_**Who the fuck else would it be, Gallagher? What the fuck is going on?"  
"**__Ian's puking blood, so I'm taking him Io the hospital."_

Mickey clenches his hands into fists.

"_**I fuckin' know that part. Your text message told me that. Do you know what's wrong with him?"**_

Mickey can hear Ian's kid sister in the background and Lip giving her instructions.

"_**Gallagher? You fuckin' listening to me?!" **_

_** "**__Yeah, sorry, Mickey. We're trying to get him into the truck now.__**"**_

Mickey bites his bottom lip to stop himself from biting off Lip's head. They're getting him into a truck now? They should be at the hospital by now. You don't fuck around with puking blood.

"_**You're only getting him into the truck now? You need to get his ass down to the hospital, now. You should have called for a fucking ambulance."**_

Mickey can hear Lip struggling with something, probably trying to get Ian into the fuckin' truck.

"_Yeah, with our platinum health care coverage plan that's the first thing I should have thought of doing."_

"_**I would have at least stolen what I needed to get him there."**_

"_Yeah, me in booking isn't exactly what Ian needs right now. So, _

_if we're done with the little conversation, I'm gonna get Ian's ass _

_to the hospital before he passes out due to blood loss."  
_

_ "__**You taking him to Mercy?"**_

_** "**__It's the closest."_

Mickey rubs the bridge of his nose.

"_**I'll be there as soon as I can."**_

_** "**__K, Mickey."_

Mickey doesn't say good bye, he just hangs up the phone. He looks at the time and sees that only ten minutes has passed since he last checked the time. Fuck, Linda better get back fast.

**XXXXX**

Lip leans his head back against the wall of the hospital waiting room.

"What time is it?" Debbie asks her brother.

Lip looks at his cell phone and turns back to his sister. "A little after seven."

"That's it?" Debbie says quietly. "It feels like it should be later."

Lip nods his head. He knows exactly what she means. It's hard to believe that it's only been three hours since Ian started puking blood. Nearly two since he returned home with Kev's truck to find a frazzled Debbie struggling to keep Ian upright so he wouldn't choke on the blood that he was vomiting violently. And nearly an hour and a half since he and Debbie were directed to a waiting room after being told that Ian needed emergency surgery to repair what the doctor that was a bleeding ulcer.

"He should be out of surgery soon, Debs. Do you want to go get something to eat?"

Debbie shakes her head. "I'd rather stay here just in case the doctor comes back."

"Suit yourself." Lip says as he looks into his younger sister's sad eyes. Poor kid is scared to death. Not only did she see her brother vomit a shitload of blood, she also had to help Lip get a barely conscious Ian into Kev's truck because the redhead was of little help.

"Come here," Lip says as he lifts his arm. Deb moves across her chair and puts her head on her brother's lap.

"He's gonna be okay?" she asks cautiously.

Lip rubs his sister's shoulder as he leans his head back, "He's gonna be fine." He better be. Lip doesn't want to think of what would happen to their family if Ian wasn't. And he certainly doesn't want to think of what would happen if Mickey heard that Ian wasn't okay.

**XXXXX**

Mickey tears into the waiting room, and says loudly, "What the fuck's is goin' on?"

Both Lip and Debbie sit up straight in response to the loud intrusion. "Jesus, Mickey. This is a hospital, a little tact would be nice," Lip says as he stands up.

Mickey shrugs his shoulders. He has never given a shit about tact, so why should be start now. He's pissed that it took him this long to get here. Linda ended up getting back later, and then made him clean the cooler floor because there was spilled soda all over the floor. He wanted to tell her to fuck off and leave, but he couldn't. He needs this job for his parole.

The ex-con turns to Lip and asks, "Where is he?"

Lip sighs, "He's in surgery. They think he has a bleeding ulcer. So they went in to do an endoscopy to see what the hell's going on and fix whatever is making him bleed."

"Jesus." Mickey retorts as he takes a seat across from where Debbie and Lip are standing. The siblings take a seat, and the three of them sit there in silence for awhile.

Mickey can feel Ian's sister's eyes burrowing a hole in him. Firecrotch's right. She not only knows he's gay, but she also knows about him and her brother. Ian told him a couple of weeks ago that he thought that was the case, but wasn't completely sure. Debbie has never said anything outright, but according to Ian she seems to have that all knowing look in her eyes. And even in the Gallagher house, where people actually talk about important shit, Ian's sexuality isn't exactly talked about out in the open. Fiona has never said anything to Ian about being gay. Lip's the only one that really talks about it, and it's usually at his brother's expense.

But, the look on Ian's kid sister's face at the moment tells Mickey all he needs to know. She doesn't even seem surprised that he's there, waiting with them for news about her brother. The kid is too damn smart, just like her brothers.

"How long have you been messing around with my brother?" The girl asks from her seat across from the ex-con.

Mickey's jaw drops. He knew that she figured out what's going on between her brother and him, but he never would have guessed that she would actually say anything to him about it. He figured that she would basically keep her mouth shut about it, like Lip does most of the time, when he's not making crude comments about his and Ian's sex life.

"None of your fucking business, kid." Mickey retorts with a hard glare.

She raises her eyebrows and gives him an 'oh really' look. "It will be if you hurt him."

Is this kid fucking serious? Is this pint size, pre-teen brat really threatening him? He's about to laugh at the ridiculousness of this whole fucking situation when a doctor in green scrubs walks into the waiting room, looking for the family of Ian Gallagher. The three of them stand up to listen to what the doctor has to say.

"Hi, Dr. Malone." Debbie greets quietly.

"Is he going to be okay?" Lip asks.

The doctor gives him a small smile, "He should be. It was what we suspected, a bleeding ulcer. We performed an endoscopy that located where the bleeding was occurring, and we repaired the damage." The doctor looks down at his clipboard before he continues."He's now on medicine to help repair the damage done to his stomach lining, as well as to help decrease the amount of acid that his stomach's producing. Ian also received a blood transfusion to replenish the blood volume that he lost from vomiting blood."

Mickey swallows quickly when he hears the last part. Gallagher had to actually get a blood transfusion because he lost so much fucking blood. He must have been puking a shitload of blood to need a transfusion. He's happy that he wasn't there to witness that. No wonder why both Lip and Debbie looked like crap when he first walked into the waiting room, and look more relieved now.

"With some rest, antacids and some life style changes he should be fine." Dr. Malone explains.

"Can we see him?" Debbie asks.

The doctor gives him a small smile. "Sure, but he's still sleeping. He's going to need his rest, so don't stay for too long. You guys can come back tomorrow. I'll have the nurse come get you when he's settled in his room."

"Thanks, doc." Lip says.

Mickey doesn't say anything, and just nods at the doctor as he leaves the waiting room.

He looks at the Gallagher's, "Where's the rest of your crew? I thought for sure that the rest of you will be here. You know, one for all and all for one."

"Fiona is out of state with Jimmy for a football thing with Carl. They're on their way home now. They won't be back until late," Lip explains.

"And Liam is still at Sheila's." Debs adds.

"Excuse me, are you guys here for Ian Gallagher?" A young nurse in her thirties asks.

"He's our brother," Debbie answers, looking back at Mickey almost as if daring him to contradict her.

But, Mickey won't. It's one thing that Lip and Debbie know about him and Ian, it's another to let a complete fucking stranger know. So, he goes along with the whole brother thing, for now. It's a pretty plausible explanation, and it will probably be easier to see Ian with the cover that they're brothers.

"Okay, guys. I'm Tara, one of your brother's nurses. Follow me."

Debbie and Lip quickly follow Tara. Mickey stays behind for a second. Does he go? Does he really want to see Ian with both his sister and brother there? Do they even want him there? Are they going to tell him to get loss now that they know Ian's going to be okay?

But, then Debbie turns around and motions with her hand to follow them. Mickey takes this as permission to go, and quickly catches up with them. As he follows the Gallagher's to Ian's room, Mickey can't help but think. God he's turning into a fucking pussy. The fact that he came rushing to the hospital to see if Ian was okay goes against everything Mickey believed made him Mickey. But, Ian does that to him. But, what's worse than that is that he actually waited for a twelve year old to give him permission to see Ian. What the fuck is he turning into? God he's glad that Mandy isn't around to see this.

Before Mickey can further debate how much Ian has fucked up the perception of what his life was suppose to be like, they came to a door.

"Here you go guys. Don't stay too long, your brother needs his rest," Tara says as she opens the door to let the three of them into the room.

Mickey takes a deep breath, and follows Debbie and Lip into the room.


End file.
